


A Series of Stories

by Malakia



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Catlock, F/M, Gen, Kidlock, M/M, Parentlock, Pictures, Post-Reichenbach, Tumblr, Writing, whump!sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malakia/pseuds/Malakia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like this hasn't been done before but this 'story' is basically a number of ficlets/ short one-shots based of pictures that I find on the internet. I hope you all enjoy :).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Son and Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based of this picture -> http://uberklutz.tumblr.com/post/42143727679/i-love-this-with-all-my-heart

John huffed as looked around the party for his son and husband. They were at a costume party that Mycroft was hosting, and John couldn’t have felt more out of place in the see of unfamiliar faces, almost all of these people belonging to the upper crust of British society. There was all kinds of costumes but you think it would be simple to find a tall man dressed in World War I gentlemen attire. As Sherlock put it, it was still a costume but not really, something that would really push Mycroft’s buttons. In fact, the entire family was dressed that way, Hamish looking like a news paper boy and John as a World War I soldier. 

John sighed when he didn’t catch any sign of them and decided to go outside and look for them. Outside, it was a lovely sunny day, though a bit nippy because of the wind and the fact that the sun was going down to set. John walked briskly down the graveled paths, hoping to see his two wayward geniuses. After searching for what felt like hours, John was about to call out when he rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. 

The sight before him looked like something out of an old photograph. Sherlock, in a old fashioned suit and top hat, holding up Hamish a little above his head to look at flower that was blooming on a tree, where a bumblebee was collecting pollen from the center. Both of them were quiet, staring at the little bee, Hamish with a look of wonderment on his face while Sherlock had his usual studying face, probably catching everything that the little insect was doing. 

John smiled and just watched the two of them until the little bee flew away. Hamish turned his head to look over his shoulder at Sherlock. “That was cool Papa!” he said with a big smile on his face and lightly kicking his legs in the air. “It was neat seeing how bees collect the pollen!”

“Bees are always fascinating,” Sherlock agreed as he placed Hamish on the ground. “They are easy to predict but not at the same time. Maybe I will study them after I retire….” The ending was said more towards himself but then he quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts. “We should head back before Dad begins to worry.” 

“Can we take one of the flowers and give it to Dad?” Hamish said turning towards the consulting detective and jumping up and down a little.

“I would love that,” John said, causing the two to jump and look at him.

“Daddy!” Hamish called running to the doctor. John laughed as he caught Hamish underneath the armpits and hoisting him up, until he was holding his son. The little boy had one hand on his hat to keep it on his head as he smiled broadly at John. “Dad! We watched bee collect pollen!” he said, sounding like he had learned the secret of the universe.

“You did?” John asked, as Sherlock approached the two of them, a flower in hand.

“Yeah! We were just walking around and we saw it! It was so cool!” 

“I agree,” Sherlock said, taking the flower and placing it in one of John’s breast pockets. “It suits you.”

John laughed before he leaned up, grabbing the lapels of Sherlock’s coat until he bent over and the two of them giving each other a small peck on the lips.

“Ew! Kissy!” Hamish laughed when the two of them pulled away.

“Yes ‘kissy,’” John replied, bringing up one of this hands and starting to tickle his son. Hamish squealed and wiggled in his grasp, laughing without care in the world, that only doubled when Sherlock joined in.

After a few minutes, the two of them stopped, leaving Hamish breathless. John leaned in and gave Hamish a kiss on the cheek before grabbing a hold of Sherlock’s hand. “Come on,” he said. “We have to get back to the party. Will stay for a bit longer than head home, yeah?”

“Sounds lovely,” Sherlock agreed as all three of them made their way back to the house.


	2. You've Got Mail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story based off this gif set -> http://selinabln.tumblr.com/post/63541236923/youve-got-mail-dr-watson

John sighed heavily as he sat down at his desk. He stared at his laptop for a moment before opening it and waiting for it to warm up. In the silence, his mind began to wonder about the day; it was 3 years to the day when Sherlock killed himself. It was easier to think about these days but still hurt him as his heart squeezed. His eyes started to burn so he looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears. 

‘ _I really should be over this,’_ he thought, taking another huge breath. ‘ _Three years is a long time to mourn someone.’_ Part of him knew that it was unhealthy too, or so his therapist said. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a life though; he was able to somewhat move on after Sherlock’s death- even accept the fact that his friend was dead. His life was good, he had a steady job and a good girlfriend, Mary, who he had been dating for about a year and a half.

Yet there was always a Sherlock sized hole in his life that no one could fill. Not even Mary.

Once he was sure that he would not cry he looked back at his laptop and typed in the password,  _not_ thinking about a certain someone who used to hack into his computer. When the homepage came up he clicked on the email icon. It immediately opened and he went to work looking through the it, filtering out the spam and normal emails. There wasn’t anything overly interesting but as he neared the bottom he stopped.

**_"Sherlock Holmes is real."_ **

John ground his teeth together as anger welled up inside of him. It wasn’t the first time for something like this to happen- he had received plenty of wacko emails- but he thought this mess was over with. He moved his mouse over to delete it but instead found himself clicking on it to open. He didn’t understand why but he waited until the email loaded, confused when there wasn’t any words but there was a video attached. He clicked on it and a new window opened.

It was pitch black for a moment before the screen suddenly turned on. John leaned back even more confused because the camera was focused on a man’s back. The man was filthy and sweaty, his white shirt completely ruined but what caught the good doctor’s eyes was the streak of red on the mattress that the man was on. He knew that color- it was blood and it didn’t look fake either.

"What the  _bloody hell?”_ he whispered as the camera moved. The only thing heard was the foot steps of the person moving and the other man’s heavy breathing. When the camera stopped into front of the other man’s bowed head, John could see someone behind him. “You’ve got mail, Dr. Watson,” a rough voice said. Then the person’s other hand reached out and grabbed the injured man’s curly hair, forcing his face upward.

John’s breath caught in his throat.  _'It can't be,'_ he thought desperately to himself as his left hand started to shake.  _'It can't be!'_ But it was; on camera was none of than Sherlock Holmes. Bloody and beaten with one eye nearly swollen shut and with a split lip and a heavy cut along his left cheek. Yet one eye was open for John to see the unique coloring that could only come from one person. “Sherlock…,” John whispered, so confused and elated. He didn’t understand what was going on and his thoughts were going a mile per second but were cut short when someone started to speak.

"If you want to see your friend again, Doctor," the rough voice continued. "Then come and play the Game."

The video then cut off but not before John caught a deep voice say “John-.” The doctor stared at the computer screen in shock. If he had any doubts about who the person was they were completely blown away when he said his name. That was Sherlock Holmes. His best friend. Alive.

John felt something thick in his throat. He wanted to laugh and cry. Needed to punch something or to hug that stupid genius. In the mix of his emotions it took a moment for his brain to remind John that Sherlock was  _not_ fine and that he could be killed. That caused everything inside of him to halt. Someone was holding his very  _alive_ friend hostage- with the obvious intention to hurt, if not kill, him. 

John immediately stood up and went to grab his phone with the intention to call Mycroft to have the man help him and explain all of this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want follow me here: http://malakia215.tumblr.com/


	3. Here Kitty Kitty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is based off this picture -> http://shootbadcabbies.tumblr.com/post/62109749012/mrreeeow

Sherlock didn’t want to go to a mixed nursery school. It would be his first day even though he was four years old. He was smarter than most kids, or so his Mother said, and didn’t need to be surrounded by them. Still she sent him here since it ‘had been so good for Mycroft.’ Sherlock wasn’t Mycroft though, he didn’t make friends easily- in fact his only friend was the skull back in his room- the one he got after Father died.

Plus he was a ‘freak.’ The other kids he used to ‘play’ with told him that all the time said he was. He knew things he shouldn’t; plus he was half feline- that just made him a bigger freak which Sherlock didn’t understand since everyone in his family was and Mycroft seemed not to be made fun of.

When Sherlock asked his older brother how he did it which he replied that he just,  _"ignore it. You can’t let people tell you who you are."_ Sherlock understood that to an extent but it was hard. Ever mean word they said felt like they were pulling on his ears and tail really hard (which they sometimes did). So when his Mother walked into the classroom with him he made up his mind that he didn’t need friends and that he wouldn’t let anything that the other kids said or did would hurt him.

Two female teachers came up to them and greeted them. One of them took his Mother off to the side to sign some papers while the other teacher offered her hand to him. He didn’t want to take it and shook his head; he didn’t step back though cause that would indicate he was afraid- which of course he wasn’t. Especially of this woman who had two kids of her own and wasn’t wearing her wedding ring, which didn’t look like she had anywhere at all  _(‘some thing bad happened with/to her mate?’)._

The teacher was about to say something to him with a soft smile but then there was a loud cry from a kid over in the corner. She told him not to move which made him frown as she rushed over there. Sherlock stood there awkwardly and observed all the other kids. There were Felines like him but there were also a mix of others like Canines and Leporids playing with a bunch of human children. Some of them looked like they were having fun but Sherlock fought the urge to go over and play with them. He just wanted to go home and play in the forest around the Holmes Mansion. That would be more fun than this.

One kid, a blond haired boy with blue eyes, looked from where he was playing with a bunch of kids over at him. He smiled and Sherlock immediately looked at him suspiciously when he moved over to him. _'Has an older sister. Older than me. Limping a bit- hurt falling of his bike. Plays roughly but also gentle. Wants to be my friend- why else would he come over to me. Seems nice- no won't go there.'_ The other boy stopped in front of him, still wearing that happy smile. Sherlock gripped the end of his blue shirt and before letting the boy say anything, he took a deep breath and let out his most hostile yowl he could. He did not want to be this boy’s friend.

When he was done he stood his ground feeling rather proud of himself. He thought he had done a good job and conveying his thoughts but that quickly dissipated when the boy continued to smile at him. The boy then gathered his own breath and let out a yowl that was more powerful than’s Sherlock’s own and with a more happy note to it- like he was making fun of Sherlock. Instinct kicking in, Sherlock’s ears flattened against his skull and he looked at the other boy with wide eyes- a spike of fear shooting through his being. Maybe he had missed judged this boy…?

When the boy stopped he was smiling again until he saw how Sherlock was looking at him. “Are you ok?” he asked, a slight Scottish in his voice.

"Fine," Sherlock hissed, trying to gather the courage he had left. He wasn’t going to be scared of the older boy.

"You don’t seem ‘fine,’" the boy continued, taking a small step forward. Sherlock hissed at him which caused the boy to stop. "I haven’t seen you before," the boy said randomly. "Is this your first day?"

"Yes. Now go away," Sherlock retaliated with barred fangs. "I don’t need a friend."

"Now that’s silly," the other boy said with a small smile. "Everyone needs a friend." He held out his hand. "My name is John Watson and I’ll be your friend. Your best friend even!"

Well that was a first. “But we don’t even know each other,” Sherlock said with a frown and head tilted to the side, ears propped upward. What was wrong with this boy? Sherlock didn’t understand him at all- no one wanted to be him to be their friend, let alone their  _best_ friend.

"So?" John countered. "It’s your first day  _and_ you seem like someone fun to hang out with! Do you want to go play army men?” John beamed happily at him and waved the hand that he still had out.

"I want to be a detective," Sherlock said without meaning to.  _'Stupid, why did you say that; don't encourage the idiot.'_

"Well ok," John said happily, surprising Sherlock. "Don’t know how that will work but we could try it!"

Sherlock was beyond confused now. This boy was weird. Sherlock looked between the older boys hand and back at his face. He opened his mouth with every intention to deny him but instead started rambling about his earlier and then some. “You have an older sister but she doesn’t really like hanging out with you. You are limping because you fell off your bike. You’re a year older than me and when you grow up you want to be in army or maybe even a doctor like your dad-” Once he realized what he was doing, he immediately shut his mouth and looked at John.

The older boy was now staring at him with wide eyes and mouth open and his hand had dropped to his side. Sherlock’s ears moved backwards again, waiting for hateful words to now come spewing out of John’s mouth. He closed his eyes and waited.

"Amazing…," John finally whispered which caused Sherlock to pop open his eyes and his ears to go up again. "That’s brilliant!" John went on a little louder. "How did you know all that?"

"I- um- I…." Sherlock’s was tongue-tied. Something like this never happened before. "Obvious," Sherlock finally settled on as he gripped the end of his shirt again and looked down at the floor.

"Not to me," John said which caused Sherlock to look up. "But you can show me how you did that later. What you did could be good for a detective so why don’t we play army man and detective! I can protect you as we go on and solve crimes!" John once again held out his hand.

Sherlock, despite the promise he had made himself earlier, really like the sound of that. No one ever offered to protect him when they played a game before. And no one ever called him ‘brilliant’ or ‘amazing’ when he said things about someone. When Sherlock stared into John’s eyes though all he saw was complete honesty in them. Sherlock bit his lip as he slowly raised his hand and placed it in John’s. “Come on,” John said, leading him over to a where the play clothes were. “If we are going to play then we have to dress the part!”

And who would have thought that that day would change so many things for them. They both found a life long friendship that would survive any hardship like the time of Sherlock’s drug abuse and John going off to the army. They never lost that friendship though and in the end they even became what they played that day- in a sense. The Consulting Detective and the Army Doctor. Life couldn’t have gotten better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want you can follow me here: http://malakia215.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to keep up with me you can follow me here: http://malakia215.tumblr.com/


End file.
